


Even A Guardian Angel Needs A Vacation

by Devodog



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Tiny bit of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 19:43:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11675796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devodog/pseuds/Devodog
Summary: There's a new guardian angel in town and it ain't John.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [A_Strange_Vessel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Strange_Vessel/gifts).



> This is for A_Strange_Vessel. They wanted Sherlock falls in love with his GA. This was a fun one. I can't do anything short. The boys would have done more, but that would have taken it out of the rating that they seem to like. I know I played off stereo-types. I had this Godfather-esq vision for Nick. I meant no offense. Enjoy.
> 
> I can't get it to connect to the assignments.

"John, do you really half to leave?" Sherlock whined. He was sitting on the foot of the bed watching his best friend pack for his trip to the US. He had been asked to be part of a consultative team of former military doctors. It seems as if the army wants to improve their triage techniques. It came out of the blue. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity and John jumped at it.

"Yes, Sherlock, I do. You would to if the roles were reversed." John replied slamming the lid of his suitcase. Sherlock flinched at the resounding click. "Besides it'll do us a both a bit of good to be a part. Let the gossip hounds find a different bone to chew."

Sherlock looked so lost sitting there, staring at his hands laying limply in his lap. Sherlock knew everyone thought they were a couple. He even fancied himself in love with his best friend. But the past few weeks they seemed to be drifting apart. Getting on each others nerves, more so than the usual. So when the offer came, of course John jumped at it. He would have too, if were honest. It's that he hadn't been with out his best for for so long. He wast't sure what to do with himself.

John sighed, looking at the floundering soul before him. He felt a tiny bit remorseful that he was leaving him. By the father, he was wearing him out. He lasted longer than any of the others ever had. He did intend to come back after his vacation. He just need time away.

"Sherlock. I'll keep in touch. It's only for a couple of months. I"ll be back at the end of the summer."

Sherlock looked up with pain filled eyes. "That's what they all said."

That unnerved John a bit. Did he know who he really was? The man was brilliant, so there was always the possibility. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Well. I best be off. Cab's waiting." He gave a last look at his friend, debating if he would accept any for of touch. Deciding against it,he picked up his case and went to meet the cab.

Sherlock waited till he heard the door shut before he pulled the whit feather out from his pocket. He twirled it in his fingers before standing up. He walked to the wardrobe and retrieved a box that was hiding in the false bottom. He opened the box and dropped the feather in to join the other three.

Red-beard. Victor. Mary. John. He stroked each one reverently, remembering that point in his life when each of his guardian angels finally had enough and left him. John was the longest. He promised to be back. The others just 'died' to escape him. It was enough to drive anyone to the dark side. Yet, he refused to join the legion of demons. While no angel himself, he knew they need him. There was to much evil in the world.

Sherlock closed the box and put it back in it's hiding spot. He supposed another poor fool would come and try to handle him. This should be interesting. He didn't plan to go along with their guise this time. Perhaps if they knew he knew, they might stay.

*****

It didn't take long for Sherlock new angel to show up. Lestrade called him to the yard immediately. No arguments. Sherlock wanted to ignore him, just for spit, but he was so utterly bored. No cases since John left and non of his experiments held in interest long enough.

He walked into the DI's office to find him chattering away with an auburn haired man of about the same age as Greg. Instantly he knew that was his new guardian angel. The dark haired man paused in mid sentence to look at the detective. His eyes twinkling and a barely contained smirk told Sherlock he knew about his plan.

Greg turned at the pause in conversation "Sherlock. Come meet an old mate of mine. This is Nick Turner. Nick, Sherlock Holmes."

Nick stood and offered his hand, daring the younger man not to take it. Sherlock gave him a once over. Same height as him. About two stones heavier, but solid muscle. Hair, long, but not overly so. Just to his shoulders. He looked in the man's hazel eyes and took the offered hand.

"Don't see that everyday?" Greg commented on the hand shake.

" I can abide by social niceties when the mood strikes, Graham." replied Sherlock haughtily putting his hands in his pockets. "Why did your call me here? There obviously isn't a a case. You know better than to introduce me to your friends."

Lestrade cleared his throat and ran his hand over the back of his neck. "There's the Sherlock I know. Actually, I did want you to meet Nick. With John gone, I thought you might be getting lonely..." soon as he saw the eyebrows dip and the lips purse, Greg knew he let the wrong thing slip. "bored. I meant bored and have some time to show him around a bit."

"Why would I do that? I'm not your personal tour guide. Have Anderson do it. He doesn't do anything useful around here." Sherlock was about to leave when Nick spoke up. 

"Sherlock, wait. I had Greg ask ya. I figured you might have a lot of free time on your hands, ya know."

Sherlock turned to glare at the older man. "What do you mean, Mr. Turner." he asked icily.

Smirking ,"Nut'n. Just with your best friend gone and no cases to work on. 'Sides, I would live to hear you okay that fiddle of yours."

Greg could see the anger coursing through Sherlock. He was very surprised he hadn't started deducing him as per his usual defense. "You know, Nick. Sherlock is pretty shy about who he plays the violin for. Perhaps another day."

The two dark haired men glared at each other. Daring the other to make the first move. It was Sherlock who gave in in first, but not the way any of them expected.

"It's fine, Greg. I would be delighted to show your friend around. We might even get in some 'fiddle ' playing. " In a swirl of dark wool, he left the office, not caring if Nick followed or not.

"Better get after him, mate. He won't wait for you long." Greg told Nick while pushing him out of his office. "I'll call ya after work."

__________*****_________

Sherlock was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, smoking a cigarette. He threw it down as Nick stopped beside him. "I know who you are." Sherlock state without looking at the man next to him.

"Figured ya did. Let's find us a quiet place and we'll talk."

"Of course, Mr. Turner. I know all the place of interest in London." Sherlock responded icily.

The two made there way to a little used park. Sherlock like to come here to get away from the prying eyes of his brother as well as the paparazzi. They settled on a bench that was tucked under a tree. It was secluded and also allowed one to watch the duck on the small pond.

Neither spoke, unsure where to start. The silence between should have been uncomfortable. They were strangers after all, but for some reason it wasn't. It was like sitting with John. Content would be the best way would be the best way to describe it.

"So how'd ya know?" Nick asked casually.

"Lestrade would never ask me to show an friend around. That and... I was expecting you."

"Expecting me, huh. Makes sense. They said you was a smart one."

"Who told you?" Sherlock asked, a little frown on his fore head.

"You're other guardian angels." was the reply.

"I thought a person only got one. You are the fourth." Sherlock paused, unsure if he should ask. Unsure if he really wanted the answer. "I believe I know the reason as to why they left, but could you confirm it." he asked.

"Sure. You're a pain the ass. It's bad enough to deal with ya on a regular day. To live with ya takes the patience of a saint. We ain't saints." Nick answered cheerfully. 

"I figured as much. So why keep sending someone if I'm so difficult?"

"You're right. Everyone should have a GA. However, there are a few...  
Nick paused to glare at the young man, "who prove to be difficult. You're one of 'em. Brother is too."

"Of course Mycroft would be." Snorts Sherlock.

"Don't get cocky. He's only on his second. You my friend are such a pain in the butt that we have two regulars keep'in an eye out for you. That ain't counting your brother."

"Can I assume I am of some significance then? Afraid that I'll go to the dark side?" Sherlock asked sarcastically

Nick rolled his eyes and thought ' He really is a narcissistic ass.' "You know what they say about folks who assume, right?"

Sherlock didn't move a muscle. Nick groaned, "Why do I even try." he asked to no one. "I can't say. Before you ask, I don't know. I just go where I'm told. John needed a vacation. You need some tough love. So here I am."

That caught the younger man's attention. "What do you mean tough love?" he asked turning to stare at the angel.

"Just what I said. Every one of your previous guardians was to soft on ya. There were time it was what you needed, but most of the time id din't work. Made ya more spoiled. John came close, though. It really isn't his style, that's why he burned out. Me? Tough love is my specialty. I don't put up with no bodies shit." Nick respond calmly.

"For an angel, you swear a lot. Isn't that against some rule?"

"Nah. We have to blend in. Society ain't no goody two shoes. I'd stick out like a sore thumb if I played by the old rule."

"Your accent and manner of speech suggest American. East Coast. Are you really an old friend of Lestrade's or is it just a cover?"

"Hey. You got it right. Greg and me went to uni together. I studied music but had a knack for science, too. That's how we met. I'm here for a working vacation, could say. I have a couple gigs I gotta do while I'm in town."

That intrigued Sherlock. Science and music. It probably was all for show. He shouldn't get to excited. It was to convenient to have his two favorite interests in one man. It also didn't escape his attention that Nick didn't really answer his question. He refuses to risk his heart anymore. These creatures always seem to bring out his sentiment. This time it won't work. Nick is to brash for his taste. So why was he getting butterflies in his stomach?


	2. The Game Is On

Red-Beard and John came to live with Sherlock right away. The others were just always - there. He wondered how Nick would do it. He thought about this 'tough love'. In the traditional sense, it was setting very specific boundaries or restrictions and making sure the person be responsible for their actions. He wondered how Nick planned to implement such a technique. He almost had to be sharing the flat to make it work. In a more gown up world, tough love was very much like a dominate/submissive situation. 

He never gave the life style much thought before. It could be intriguing to relinquish control to someone else. Let them make all your decisions for you. To care for you. Thant kind of submission requires complete trust. He never found anyone he could trust enough to want to try. John had been close, but Nick was correct. He did give in to much for this sort of play. Perhaps Nick? Sherlock immediately tried to delete the thought. Damn angels. He needed to build stronger walls around his heart.

*****

"Mrs. Hudson! Where is that god awful stench coming from?" Sherlock bellowed down the stairs.

"Sherlock! Keep your voice down." Mrs. Hudson scolded. "We have a guest in 221 C. DI Lestrade's friend. He's here for the summer. So be nice to him."

The detective ignored what his landlady was saying. He ran to 221 C and banged on the door until Nick answered it. Dripping wet. Holding a soaking towel around lean hips. 

Sherlock's fist stopped in mid air. His breath leaving him. His eyes roamed from the top of the dark head down to a strong, lightly furred, muscular chest. He couldn't keep from tracing the ling of hair to the white clingy towel that was barely hiding at what promised to be an impressive package. Nick's long legs had a fair amount of hair. Just shy of being called hairy. When Sherlock's eyes finally reached back to Nick's face, he was greeted with mirth filled eyes and a smirk on the lips. He knew when he was being checked out.

"Can I help you?" Nick asked

Sherlock swallowed, then caught a whiff of the unpleasant smell, reminding him why he was here. "Can you please remove what ever is causing that foul stench. My entire flat is permeated with it."

Nick chuckled and bid the other man in. Once inside, Nick went to change into his short dressing gown. "Tea?" he asked.

"Coffee..." Sherlock started.

"Black, two sugars. I know."

If he was hoping to surprise him with that knowledge, he was sorely mistaken. It was common knowledge how he drank his coffee. Sherlock prowled around the flat in search of the offending smell while the older man prepared the drinks.

"I'm a little hurt you don't like my incense, Sherlock. It's a special blend. I created with you in mind." Nick laughed

Sherlock came into the kitchen and glared. He had to stay focused on being angry and not on the long auburn locks. He though they were dark like his. More black than brown, but hanging loose, the red highlights were apparent. "You find cow dung mixed with rotting garbage, a touch of skunk with an over tone of human flatulence a relaxing scent?" he asked.

"Compare to microwaved eye balls or forgotten fingers in the crisper, Yeah. I do."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. So this was how it was going to be played. Set up below his flat. Plague him with his own annoying habits. Two could play at this game.

"Before you start creating your battle plan. Remember, Mrs. H lives here too. I can also influence the amount of cases you get." Nick smiles, handing his charge his coffee.

Sherlock just huffs. "You know what happens if I got bored. I might slip back into bad habits."

It was Nicks turn to frown. "Is that a threat, Mr. Holmes?"

"No. Just a reminder."

Nick pushed off the sink where he had been leaning and came chest to chest with the younger man. He noticed the catch of breath. The increased pulse, and widening of the eyes. Their bodies weren't touching, but they could feel the heat pouring off each other. He was pleased when Sherlock didn't back down. He didn't want to break his spirit, just tame it. His gaze darted to his lips "Believe me when I say, you won't get bored."

Sherlock had to suppress a whine at the husky tone. Damn angel. He wasn't playing fair. "Being a bit bold. Isn't it a bit early in the game for such tactics?" he asked stepping back.

"Naw. Since you know who I am, we don't have to play the usual games."

"I didn't think seducing your charge was allowed." the detective continued, proud of himself for keep his tone even.

"Who said I was seducing?" Nick asked with a twinkle in his eye.

Sherlock huffed and flounced himself on the ratty sofa in the living room. Sometime during their conversation, the offending incense dissipated to be replace with a more calming lavender. Despite Mrs. Hudson's good intentions, the flat was still musty.

Nick followed his charge and sat across from him, keeping his knees open enough that the younger man might get something for his efforts, should he decide to look. Reclining back against the chair allowed his robe to part, framing the defined pectorals.

'Damn angels.' Sherlock thought. 'Not seducing my arse.'

"Tell me, Nick. This body. This persona. Is it created for me, or is it who your were, are, or-- how does that work?"

"You've been itch'n to ask that question for years." grinning at his charges miffed expression.

"A bit of both. Each came to you in a form you needed at each period in your life. See's a dog ain't going to do you any good right now. Women ain't your thing. Now, John. He really was a soldier and a doc. Me. I"m called in for tough cases. Been around to pick up a few things. This body, personality--all mine." 

Nick sounded proud at this. Sherlock rolled his eyes during his speech. He was busy getting an eyeful of what Nick was offering. Damn angle. He was making it hard. In more ways than one. It was John's fault for awaking his libido. All his talk about wants and desires.

"Yes. Well, then. I'll be off seeing how the offending odor is gone."

"You're welcome here any time, friend." Nick said with a 'cat that got the cream' look.

Once Sherlock was gone, Mrs. Hudson stormed in to stand in front of the still seated angel. "Now you listen to me, young man. If you let Sherlock relapse with his drugs or shoot the wall, I will personally rip your wings apart."

Nick stood up and adjusted his robe. Even though Mrs. Hudson wasn't a GA, she was one of the best angels here on earth. He had a great respect for her. "Easy, Mrs. H. I won't let it get that far. There's free will to contend with ya know? But I'll make sure he makes the right choice."

Mrs. Hudson stared at him, taking his measure. She knew Nick was good at his job. She also knew he was only called in as a last resort. If he couldn't tame her boy, the he would be lost. She really though John was the one. The way Sherlock acted around Nick, he just might be what the boy needed after all.

The GA remained still under the old woman's scrutiny. Holding his breath. For some reason her opinion mattered to him. After a minute, Mrs. Hudson gave a curt nod, spun on her heel and left without further comment. Nick blew out his breath. He passed. Now it was time to go into round two with the handsome detective. He didn't miss him checking out the goods. He shook out his hair and saunter off to get dressed. The game was on.

_____*****_____

 

Back in his flat, Sherlock paced around. How can I be attracted to that angel? It took John killing someone for him and nearly being blown up before he realized his affections. With Nick all it took was the long auburn locks and cheeky attitude. The muscles, chest and family jewels didn't hurt. He can't fall for this man. That's against the rule. He would never be able to reciprocate. Damn Mycroft for being right. Bloody sentiment. 

His phone going off broke him out of his musings. It was Lestrade. Case. At least a seven. As he grabbed his coat he wondered if Nick would be there.

When Sherlock arrived at the scene, Nick was talking with Lestrade. "What's he doing here?" Sherlock asked rudely.

"I want to see how you do things on this side of the pond. Greg is being gracious in letting me tag along. Problem, friend?" Nick answered. His tone daring the younger man to argue.

"No problem, just stay out of my way." was the haughty reply as Sherlock dismissed him with a swish of his coat.

"That's my boy." Greg told his friend.

"He needs to work on his manners."

"Oh, that was polite. For him." Greg smirked.

They watched Sherlock work. Pouring over every little detail. Occasionally pulling out his magnifying glass. He rose up from the ground and took off, calling behind him, "Coming, Nick?"

"I hat when he does that." Greg said. "Keep me posted." he yelled after Nick.

The two ran down streets and alley ways for several minutes before Nick yanked Sherlock to stop. "What the hell are ya doing?" He yelled, panting from the long run.

"Seeing how long it would take before you asked." was the cheeky reply. "About one minute and 31 seconds longer than anticipated."

Nick shoved him against the wall, his hand wrapped around the collar of his coat. "Of course I'd follow. I kinda half to. It's my job."

Sherlock just smiled. It was cold, not reaching his eyes. It was meant to annoy.

"I see. Toying with the new guy, huh? Not going work with me, bucko. That's twice you've been naughty. Bad manner. That means a consequence." Nick calmly stated in his husky tenor.

Sherlock's breath began to hitch. His pulse speed up. He was curious as to what his punishment would be. None of this escaped Nick's notice. He stepped closer to his charge so that they were barely touching. Only when they inhaled, did their chests brush against the others. His hands moved to lay flat on the brick wall by his head, trapping him. He leaned in so that his lips brushed the smaller man's ear. His warm breath teased his cheek. 

"I can tell your excited about a punishment." 

Sherlock bit back a groan as Nick softly brushed their growing erections against each other. He heard it anyway. The GA nuzzled his cheek against the others, placing an open mouth kiss on Sherlock's temple, "The wait is what makes it exciting. Not knowing when it will be. What it will be." 

Sherlock banged his head against the wall. Biting his lip to keep from whimpering out loud. Nick grinned. He wanted to hear that lovely baritone once more before letting him go. He brushed his lips across the pale cheek. Nuzzled behind his ear. His hot breath sending shivers down the detectives spine. Sherlock turned his head to give him more room. Nick took him up on the offer. He drug his tongue up from the base of his neck to nip at the soft lobe of his ear. Discretely rutting against the impressive bulge. Letting out a small happy hum at the pleasure running through his own straining cock. Sherlock grabbed the lean hips and thrust back with a moan of pleasure. 

Instantly Nick stepped away. "That's what I was waiting for. I love to hear your sexy baritone. Now let's get back to the crime scene so you can tell the DI who done it." He sauntered away, leaving Sherlock leaning on the wall to gather his composure.

"Damn angel." he whispered while adjusting himself so he could follow.


	3. Who's Turn Is It

Sherlock stood by the floor vent, playing the violin. It was one o'clock in the morning.. He choose a lively tune. John had texted that he arrived safely and would call when he got settled. He was a bit a surprised that John was carrying on the charade. Lack of communication was at every level.

He was furious at the state Nick left him in. How dare he. By the time he got back, they had already solved it. He should be grateful Nick gave him the credit. Said "I told him the answer." He could tell Geoff didn't believe it, but went along with it anyway to save the paperwork.

Now he had to deduce if the little stunt in the alley was his consequence or not. In the mean time, he would play as loudly and chipper of tunes over the conveniently placed vent for the next few hours. Tonight, revenge was his.

Nick groaned, pounding his pillow, trying to get comfortable. Walking away from Sherlock was one of the harder things he had done. The man was infuriating,, but by the father, was he sexy. The attitude just enhanced the beauty. Those curls and cheekbones. Yummy. If he was going to go there, those lips were made to suck cock. He groaned, sliding his hand down to give his aching prick a squeeze. Most folks thought angels didn't suffer from such carnal pleasures. But as old as he was, and for as long as he's been on earth, he had done everything at least twice.

Now he was stuck with sex on a stick playing fucking "It's A Small World" at four o'clock in the fucking morning. Sherlock had been at it for the last three hours. Non stop. One perky tune after another. He finally resorted to old Disney tunes about an hour ago. The man could play a fiddle. Pay back was a bitch.

Guess he didn't learn his lesson in the alley. He would get his consequence in more ways than one. It was never a good idea to piss off a tired guardian angel.

The next morning Nick stumbled into Sherlock's flat unannounced. He found him curled up in bed. Asleep. Nick chuckled with an evil glee. Payback time. 'Hmm.' he thought 'Should i be childish with prank, or seductive? Did seduction yesterday. Didn't work. Childish prank it is.'

He went back to the kitchen and living room. Dug around till he found what he wanted. Quietly he stole back to the bed room. Sherlock was lying on his back, one arm up over his head, the other across his stomach. The sheet barely covering his lean hips. The sight was enough to make a straight man drool.

Nick got started on his prank before he could change his mind. Once he put the final touches on, he stood back to admire his work. He grabbed the pot lids he got from the kitchen and started playing. What light touche of a marker couldn't do, the sounds of crashing metal could. Sherlock bolted up right. 

"What the blood hell?" he yelled.

Nick doubled over laughing. Sherlock shot daggers at the angel. "What is so funny? I just got to sleep. I thought it was your job to see to my health." He said haughtily. Trying to calm his racing heart.

"That's John's job. He's the doc. I just have to make sure you stay alive."

With a harrumph, Sherlock rose from the bed, pulling his sheet with him and made his way into the bathroom. Nick counted the seconds to the screech. Loud enough to bring Mrs. Hudson up the stairs.

Neither one could contain their laughter when Sherlock threw open the door to reveal his lovely new clown make-up. Done in permanent marker.

"You bloody bastard." he shouted at the GA.

"Don't mess with a tired angel, friend. Nick said between laughs. Mrs. H wanted to scold the GA but could't. It wasn't often anyone could get one over on her boy. She just shook her heat at them. "Try rubbing alcohol." was all she said, heading to her flat.

*****

That's how it went. Sherlock would settle down for a bit. Get a case or two. Forget his manners and receive a consequence. One time, Nick choose to play his cell at two o'clock in the morning, He could honestly say it was for his up coming performances, but his charge had been particularly rude to Greg and Mrs. H. that day. 

So for the next few hours, Nick rehearsed his play list. It included Bach's Cello Suite #1 in G major, Elgar' Cello Concerto in E minor and a few Lady Ga Ga renditions, for fun. Sherlock didn't start pounding the floor until he hit "Paparazzi".

The lessons in tough love escalated by the week. It got to a point where Mrs. Hudson had to go to her sisters to avoid the explosions, smells and battle of the strings. Though she didn't mid the last one a much. Both men were very talented at their respective instruments. Just imagine what they would be like if they every played together.

Sherlock was even complaining to John on their weekly phone check-ins. Telling him how insufferable he was. Making his own incense so foul that the entire building had to be aired out. His influence over Lestrade and cases. The late night cello playing. He even went so far as to rant how Nick had no decency. Walking around in just in his pants or a thin robe that barely stayed closed. He had no qualms about entering the flat at any time of day or night. Some times in only his pants and they were so skimpy he might as well not be wearing any,

Then there were the conversations that talked about how brilliant of a a musician he was. That he was a guest soloist for the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. He actually wasn't to bad detective, though he did better in the lab with Molly. If it was particularly late or Sherlock was overly tired, he would tell John about Nick's long auburn locks. Or how his hazel eyes shone when he did something clever. He also mentioned once or twice the toned pectorals or how Nick filled out his tight green pants.

John would laugh and tease his friend of having a crush on his new house mate. Sherlock would just bluster and deny it. But as more time went by and John didn't let up about the crush and at some point started teasing that he was in love, that he really stopped to think about it.

There had been times that he purposefully broke the rules just to see what Nick would do. As promised, he never let him get bored. He challenged him to think of different ways to find a answers. To try finding antidotes to some of the more obscure and exotic poisons. Things that would also be useful in his work. 

Nick also kept him occupied with music. Composing duets for violin and cello. Sherlock even took in one of his sold out performances. He had to call in a favor for that one.

The angel also made sure to reward his charge when he was doing well. Not being as rude to the yarders. Showing more consideration with his experiments. Those were the times both men enjoyed.

Sometimes it was just a stroll through the park, holding hands. Or watching some crap telly, making fun of the inaccuracies. If Sherlock was especially good, there would be a snogging session on the sofa that led to second base, as Nick called it. Sherlock called it frustation that led to masturbating alone.

The young detective had thought what he felt for John was love. He had come to realize that it wasn't romantic love, but a form of brotherly love. What he was feeling for Nick was more intense. More than the need for sex. He felt empty when he wasn't around. Happy when he was, even if he was being scolded. This was romantic love. John was right. Damn angel. He fell in love with his guardian angel. That definitely had to be against the rules. Sherlock didn't know what to do.


	4. If You Love Something...

Nick was getting ready to go see Sherlock when his phone went off. 

"Well. Shit!" 

John was coming back. In fact he and Sherlock had been talking at least once a week. Since his regular GA was returning and he had done a miraculous job of taming the detective, of course he was being sent to Ireland in a week. Another last ditch effort. Though this one pretty much had already shook hands with the other team. But hey, gotta try.

He should be happy. Sherlock has been the biggest pain in the ass. To smart for his own damn good and h knows it. Despite his arrogance, he is actually a lot of fun to be around. He enjoyed challenging that mind. The duets he composed are worth of any concert hall. Nick's favorite was when they would just hold hands and walk in the park. Not needing to fill the air with useless conversation. Making fun of people on the tv was pretty good too. The make out sessions, by the father. It took all the angelic and not so angel control he had to stop when they did. Sherlock nailed. It was no fun to jack off alone.

Fuck'n A. He'd gone and done it. Tell in love with his charge. Management is not going to be happy about this. If they caught wind, he wouldn't even get the week. 'Sides, he didn't even know if Sherlock loved him back. He could ask John. He's sure his best friend would have told him if he were. Who's he kid'n. "I'm not 13." he said aloud to the empty room. "Grow a pair and ask Sherlock if he is. I can't do that. He wouldn't answer. It'd scare him off. Just let it go. Enjoy the last week. Maybe get to third base." He had enough decency left not to do a 'wham bam'. Nick finished talking to himself as he started packing.

*****

"Hey, Sherlock. I'll be home Friday night." John said excitedly during their weekly call.

"Fantastic, John. Can't wait." answer his friend with feigned enthusiasm.

"I thought you would be more excited, mate. You were begging me not to go a few weeks ago."

"I apologize. Of course I'm happy you'll be home."

"It's has something to do with Nick, doesn't it?"

"No." Sherlock replied a little to fast.

"Sherlock." John used 'the voice' that always made him talk.

"Yes. He leaves for the next leg of his tour on Thursday. Doesn't know when or if he'll be able to call." he whispered.

"You fell in love with him, didn't you?" asked John quietly.

"Yes." whispered Sherlock.

"Did you tell him."

"No."

"You idiot. Sherlock you have tell him." John all but yelled.

"It wouldn't make a difference. He still has to leave. Long distance relations don't work. I looked it up. All it would do is make things uncomfortable." Sherlock replied just as fiercely.

"How do you know if you don't try? Consider it an experiment. If he doesn't feel the same, learn from the data and try again with someone else. You can't hide forever, mate." John said.

There was no answer for several moments.

"Sherlock."

No answer.

"Sherlock? Are you there?"

No answer.

"Answer me, you git!"

"Alright, John. No need for name calling." Sherlock answered.

John sighed, "Promise me you'll tell him."

No answer.

"Promise me." John restates more firmly.

"I promise." Sherlock replied.

"We'll discuss it more on Friday, when I get home. Take care."

"You too, John." 

The line went dead on both sides. Sherlock just promised his best friend, GA that he would tell his replacement GA that he loved him. Couldn't break the promise or there would be hell to pay. Damn angel. 

*****

"You know it's our last night." Nick murmured. 

They were snuggling on the sofa, listening to a recording of them playing Sherlock's compositions.

"I don't want you to leave."

"John will be be back tomorrow."

"Doesn't matter. I want you." Sherlock whispered.

Nick sat up straighter to make Sherlock look at him in the eye. "You were an insufferable pain in the ass. Rude to everyone. Worse than any spoiled two year old. Now look at ya. You're still a pain in the ass..." They both chuckled softly. "But you finally learned some manners. You're happier. Mrs. H. is happier. The gang down at the yard is happier. John might actually get a little bored."

Sherlock reached out to play with Nick's hair. Nick always made sure that it was loose when they were alone. He was fascinated with the long strands.The color going from red to brown. He had never been attracted to long hair before. He fantasized what the silky locks would feel like against his thighs when his angels mouth was wrapped around his cock. How would they feel along his back when he was buried in him. Thrusting into his hot channel over and over again. Would they feel better once they got damp with sweat? He looked into Nick's eyes. "I'm only happier because of you. Once you leave, who will hold my hand as I walk in the park? Or hide me from the world in a curtain of auburn silk when thing get to be to much? Who is going to snog me senseless just because?"

"You'll find someone." Nick groaned internally at such a cheesy cliche.

"I already have." Sherlock answered back. "I did my research. You can stay with me. You can fall. You have free will."

"Of course you would look up that info." Nick stood up and walked a few feet away from his charge. "You would ask me to give up my wings? My job? My life? To become mortal and stay with you?" He was getting angry the more he thought about it. "You selfish bastard."

"You knew I was when we met. Why do think I would change now?" Sherlock asked retreating behind his mask of indifference.

"I don't know. I guess I was thinking about that, 'If you love something, set it free..' quote. Did I ever ask you to give up your work? Your experiments?" Nick demanded.

"No." Sherlock felt ashamed. He hadn't thought about it like that. He really was a selfish bastard. He hadn't learned anything. No he lost the only man he could ever love. He could only do one thing now.

He rose from the sofa to stand in front of his angel. Sherlock took in features, storing them away. He wrapped his long fingers gently around Nick's face and pulled him into a last, loving kiss. He poured every once of his love for the older man into the kiss. Lips, tongue, all messengers of love. It was long or drawn out. Just long enough to say 'I love you.'

Sherlock paused in the door way, "Good bye, Mr. Turner. May you have a pleasant trip." He closed the door and set him free.


	5. Epilogue

"Sherlock, it's been three weeks. You need to move on, mate. This isn't healthy. Even for you." Greg commented, trying to get him to move off the sofa. "Come on now. Nick wasn't all that. He could be a right pratt."

No response.

"If you don't stop your mopping, your brother will leave the practice baby with you. Set on colic. You don't want that. Trust me."

In preparing for the upcoming arrival of their new child, Mycroft obtained a "practice baby..." An electronic doll that was just like a regular infant. Programmed to have all the good/bad behaviors of the real thing. They were meant to discourage teen pregnancy. Leave it to Mycroft to find a way to 'practice' his fathering skills.

"I don't care. John would just take care of it."

"No. I wouldn't!" John shouted from the kitchen. He hadn't been able to get Sherlock out of his funk so he was enlisting the aid of his friends. Mycroft would be the last resort. 

Lestrade laughed, but turned serious again. "Listen, Sherlock. If he were going to come back, he wouldn't until his work was done. That could take months. In the mean time you have to live your life. Christ, I've cases in the eights,nines, and tens that you you have rejected. If nothing else, for the work?" Greg pleaded.

The young man just rolled over so his back was facing the room. Effectively ending the conversation.

"I'll walk you out, Greg." 

The men stood just outside 221 discussing their friend.

"Do you think we should try and contact him?" asked Greg.

"No. That's not allowed. You know that. Love has to find it's own way."

"Wait a minute. Since when doe it have to find it's own way? I've helped it along a many of times." 

"Help it along, yes. Out right tell the recipient? No. Besides, he's a high ranking guardian . We can't call him up and tell him Sherlock's pinning for him. It might get him in trouble." John blustered.

"No, but we can give him a hint and I know just what to do." Greg whispered to the GA what he wanted to do. John grinned, agreeing it would bring the two together.

One Week Later....

"Sherlock, look who I ran into?" John hollered , walking into the flat.

"I don't care. Leave me be, please."

"Glad to hear your still saying 'please'."

Sherlock hastily stood up at the sound of the husky tenor. Nick walked over to stand in front of the curly haired man. "Hey" he whispered.

"Hey." Sherlock replied breathlessly.

"Sit down, you're look'n a bit peaked. John not take'n care of you?"

Sherlock sat back on the sofa. Nick settling next to him. John quietly left back down the stairs to visit Mrs. Hudson.

"Why are you here?" asked the young man.

"I came across this" Nick handed him a small piece of paper. "Found it lying on the floor by my hotel room. Made me think of you." 

With some what a steady hand, Sherlock opened the note.

"If you love something set it free. If it comes back, it's yours. If not, it was't never meant to be."

He looked at Nick confused.

"The last night we was together, you told me good bye. I realized it was your way of setting me free."

Sherlock blushed. 

"I had to finish this last job. It was a last ditch effort. 'Sides I couldn't give in to a spoiled brat. It would have undid all my hard work." Nick confessed.

Sherlock looked into the hazel eyes he loved so much. His heart was beating so fast. The butterflies in his stomach threatened to burst free. Did he dare hope this meant...

"I took the plunge. I came back to you." Nick told him softly, running his knuckles along the pale cheek.

"Does this mean you love me?" Sherlock squeaked.

The older man just nodded and pull him in for a quick, love filled kiss.

"I knew you loved me. Your kiss told me. Then when you said good bye, it was a done deal. So you going to say it?" Nick asked while stroking a finger along side Sherlock's face.

He smiled, "I love you, Nick Turner." He leaned in to tell him over again with his lips and tongue. It quickly shifted into a snog session which Nick dominated.

John and Mrs. Hudson peek into the living room. "Does this mean you're out of a job?" asked Mrs. H.

"Nope. I gained another charge." John answered, grinning. "Though I do want to talk to you about 221 C." He put his arm around the older lad and softly closed the door behind them. The lovers never even knew they were there.

AN: So what did you think? I played on stereo types. I know nothing about guardian angels, how any of that works except for what I have seen in various films. I don't mean to offend. It is all in the attempt to answer a prompt. If there is any huge, ugly issues, let me know. Like I said before, this is for a gift and I want it to be nice. Thanks for letting me know your thoughts. Hugs to all. -DD


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